Hivetalia
by DeathbladeMeister
Summary: What if the twelve post-scratch trolls were Hetalia characters? Well, this is exactly that- the original twelve trolls replaced with twelve of the nations.
1. Chapter 1

**Before you ask, I don't know where I'm going with this either. So far, the plan is to do Hivebent, but if I get enough requests, I'll do the whole of Homestuck, and go back to Act One. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Act 5 (Act 1), Part 1**

Elsewhere in paradox space, we examine another planet, forgotten by time. But we will STRIVE TO REMEMBER!

What was this planet's name?

Oh, ha ha, nice one smartypants, hilarious. Lets get real here, no more clowning around. Try again.

Thats much better. In fact, as it happens, your guess is preciseley correct. What are the odds? We examine the planet Hetalia. Somewhere on this planet is a young troll.

Hivetalia. This young troll stands in his respite block. It just so happens that today, the fourteenth bi-lunar parogy of the seventh seasons equinox, is the day of this young trolls larval awakening, also known as his wriggling day. Though it was six solar sweeps ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name.

Six Hetalian solar sweeps, for comedic reference, is equivalent to thirteen Earth years. Earth, also for conclusive reference, is a planet that does not yet exist.

What will the name of this young troll be?

You enter something predictably derogatory and this guy tires of your shenanigans and wanders off to find someone to stick his bone bulge in. This guy has a lot of troll pals and their adventures are going to be quite extensive and convoluted, to an even greater degree than one may have become accustomed.

He thinks that if you think we have time to drag out every little gag and expected pattern along the way, he would rather be making sweet l'amor than amusing you people. He thinks you should gently place that agreement in your squinthole and root it firmly in with your most exquisite of cartilage nubs.

Your name is Franci Bonnef. As was previously mentioned, it is your wriggling day, a thing most definitely worth mentioning, as it is the anniversary of the coming of the most beautiful and handsome troll on the planet, of which there are very few beautiful or handsome trolls worthy of comparison, in your opinion at least.

Equally, a thing worth mentioning is your interests. You have a pass for spectacularly bad romantic movies and rom-coms. You should really be embarrassed for liking this cinematic tripe, but for some reason you are not. You like to draw digital art, but are notoriously pretty awful at it. You artwork invariably look like crayon drawings drawn by a hyperactive two-year old, which is just excellent, as you like to think you specialise in alternative artwork.

When you mature, you aspire to join the ranks of the most gorgeous members of your society, the Romancexcutioners. You like to practice with your Royal-Coloured Stem Supported Flora, but just end up feeling forever alone with no-one to talk to in your room.

You like to chat with some of your other troll pals, most of whom are unfortunately completely immune to your romantic advances. You have been trying out a new chat client beta called Trollian, and you are not really sure what you think about it yet.

Your trolltag is champagneGarcon, and you speak in manner, 3- THAT IS VERY FLIRTATIOUS AND EMPHATIC AT ALL TIMES!

Later, you will play a game with five other friends, and go on a big adventure. This game, for convenient reference, is a game that does not yet exist, but it will soon.

What will you do?

In the corner of your room is your Recuperacoon, full of nourishing Sopor slime. Every young troll enjoys the the sensual embrace of such a vessel at night, and the relaxing fluid helps stem the visions of an exotic and erotic manner that plague the twisted subconscious of your species.

Needless to say, you refrain from using it as much as possible, but a few minutes couldn't hurt…

Oui, relaxing, but there really is no need to sleep without an exquisite body beside you. Besides, there are many important things to do today. you are sort of a big deal.

Uh, slime. You remember another reason why you do not use you recuperacoon on a regular basis. Now you shall have to change your clothes too.

Luckily all your clothes are simply variations of the same fabulous outfit. Most trolls do not appreciate the style that goes into such a wardrobe.

My my, you have gotten off track, haven't you? You must continue your exploration of the young trolls' respite block.

You space out and get caught up reading the titles of the films for about five minutes. Wow these movies are great. You don't care what anyone says. Pure magic.

Is that…

Is that Johnny Depp?

The thing that most people don't realise is that Johnny Depp is a universal constant.

This movie… ok, this one even you have a hard time defending. But still, it's so best thing is how Troll LaBeof doesn't make you want to punch anything.

Like, nothing at all, really hard of anything.

You grab your trusty Flora with your Artwork modus. To retrieve it, you'll need to draw exactly the item contained within to open the drawing pad left behind.

This will obviously prove to be a completely ridiculous and untenable way of managing an inventory, and lead to a great many follies. Later on, you would swap your modus with your otaku friend, a person who unlike you, happens to be competent with a mouse. It would only make sense.

But for the time being it makes your life kind of a nightmare. There are so many stupid things that happen because of this modus. So many, you just have no idea. You take the drawing pad.

_Sacre bleu!_

You hear some unhappy grumbling through the hole below. This was not the most practical thing you could have done right now.

You make quite sure NOT to captchalogue a large black book, and simply pick it up to read it

It is a thick how-to-draw manual called "~ATH - A HANDBOOK FOR THE ARTISTICALLY HANDICAPPED."

~ATH is an insufferable drawing style to draw in. Its logic is composed of nothing but infinite loops, or at best, loops of effectively interminable construction.

You have a whole bunch of art samples you've been messing around with on your computer. It's been frustrating at best, and debilitating to your 'important' hand at worst.

You step outside your respiteblock, onto one of your hive's numerous extraterraneal landing slats. You were allowed to design this hive when you were young, after you emerged victorious from your trials deep in the brooding caverns. You have lived here with your custodian ever since.

It's almost as if your people have placed great cultural importance on teaching children to become architecturally adept while very young. It has been this way since ancient times. No one seems to know why that is.

Getting to build your own hive at a young age using whatever meandering design you chose likely has left you jaded to the notion of customizing your abode. You certainly wouldn't get all that worked up about a game that happened to allow you to do such a thing.

At least not for that reason.

You head back into your block and hit up your computer station. No word from any of your wonderfully available pals. Though, no news is good news. 'Tis sweet music to your auricular sponge clots.

You examine a magazine on your desk. It's the latest issue of GAME GRUB.

This one appears to boast about "exclusive leaks". They all boast about that. You're not even really sure what it means.

You pick up on of the many discs scattered around your desk. It is a DVD of one of your favorite series, Hetalia High School Host Glub.

It's about a rust romancexcutioner cadet who sasses up the bluebloods in her learnsquad pretty good. Their blood is literally blue. Lousy snobs. But Troll Caitlin Glass shows them all how to loosen up. She is pretty much your hero.

Troll TV shows have shorter titles than troll movies because TV is a much newer form of media in their society. Which is a good thing because it would be pretty hard to make this funny joke otherwise.

Ok, enough messing around. Time to get some work done maybe a little art- ooooh, my.

It figures that installing this new beta chat client would open the floodgates. All your beautiful friends are going to be hounding you relentlessly. Not that they needed an excuse before.

You wonder what this young troll wants.

\- tolstoyChelyabinsk [TC] began pestering champagneGarcon [CG]

TC: prYvET, comrADE.

CG: 3- mon ami! how may i assisst you?!

TC: i Do NoT rEquirE ANY hElp form You.

TC: i oNlY wish To kNow if mY friENDs coNTiNuE To rEfrAiN fro bEiNg cullED.

CG: 3- non, as far as i am aware. our existence continues to be acceptable !

TC: gooD.

TC: ThAT's gooD.

TC: i woulD hATE To sEE ANY of You bE uNNEEDEdlY slAughTErED.

TC: bEsT friEND.

CG: 3- oh, i am delighted in the knowledge that you treasure me so!

CG: 3- i am just SO GLAD that we are such good FRIENDS and NOTHING ELSE prevents us from being ANYTHING ELSE!

TC: i AgrEE. mY compANioNship is iNDEED A bEAuTiful ThiNg.

TC: mAYbE iT DoEs NoT EvEN quAlifY As A DisEAsE AT All.

CG: 3- non, non! It is not a disease!

CG: 3- it is!

CG: 3- a blessing!

CG: 3- a beauty!

CG: 3- a wonderful gift!

TC: iT is A sTANgE coNcEpT.

CG: 3- no, not strange at all!

CG: 3- nothing is as strange as you think it seems!

TC: EvErYwhErE i look

TC: iT is All sTrANgE coNEpTs To mE.

TC: if i look DowN AND sEE mY fAucTET

CG: 3- your hydrogen dioxide emission system!

TC: mY fAucET

TC: AND i sEE how iT DoEs NoT pErform ThE purposE iT wAs builT To Do

TC: AND iT is vErY sTrANgE.

CG: 3- i regret to inform you that in fact your 'faucet' is broken!

CG: 3- it may not seem obvious, but any sane troll would say the same!

TC: i Do NoT sEE

TC: whY woulD ThE sANE Troll sAY so?

CG: 3- no reason!

TC: sTill, i prEfEr ThE sTrANgE To ThE uNiNTErEsTiNg

CG: 3- i could make many things interesting to you!

TC: i Do NoT likE ThE wAY Your TExT impliEs ThAT.

CG: 3- sorry!

CG: 3- but i only wish to express my interest in making your life uninteresting!

CG: 3- if you would just open your eyes and see all the wonders the world has to offer, you would see that the entire planet is interesting!

TC: HONK

CG: 3- what?!

TC: hEhE, i oNlY plAY A gAmE, FrANci

TC: You ArE vErY fuN To plAY gAmEs wiTh

TC: i ENjoY plAYiNg gAmEs wiTh You EspEciAllY

TC: plAYiNg gAmEs wiTh You is vErY sTrANgE

TC: i likE iT

CG: 3- im so very glad you like me!

TC: i DiD NoT sAY ThAT.

TC: To chANgE subjEcT, how ArE You ToDAY

TC: for sEriousNEss

TC: i hEAr much TAlk AbouT A NEw gAmE

TC: i wish To kNow morE

CG: 3- oh, TA's game!

TC: DA

TC: shE is bEiNg mosT uNcoopErATivE wiTh mE

TC: iT AmAzEs mE how shE is uNwilliNg To shArE iNformATioN wiTh mE mosT of All

CG: 3- non, i think she hates GA more!

TC: uhh.

CG: 3- oh, apologies, mon ami!

TC: iT's fiNE.

CG: 3- still, i myself am quite unsure!

CG: 3- i will speak to her and relay information along!

CG: 3- i may be unsuccessful, though!

TC: iT DEpENDs oN ThE wAYs iN which You spEAk To hEr

TC: mAYbE You shoulD ToNE YoursElf DowN

CG: 3- i am perfectly toned, merci!

TC: You ArE obTusE aND ruDE

CG: 3- 'allo pot, meet kettle, we're grey!

TC: Though sTill, You ArE bETTEr friENDs wiTh hEr ThAN i Am

TC: iT souNDs likE AN imporTANT DEvElopmENT

TC: i ExpEcT To kNow morE

TC: gfjsDrYuDjxgcfcYvkYlbhj l

CG: 3- Excuse me?!

TC: i ThoughT i sAw GA

TC: i wAs wroNg

TC: i crAshED iNTo mY fAucET pilE

CG: 3- how would she get here from the desert?!

TC: ... shE hAs hEr wAYs

TC: i Do NoT kNow hEr wAYs

TC: AND i hope shE DoEs NoT usE hEr wAYs

CG: 3- maybe if your emission systems remind you of her, you should get rid of them!

CG: 3- they make your respite block unsightly!

CG: 3- and remembering them is causing unwanted deflation in my bone bulge area!

TC: i DiD NoT wish To kNow ThAT

TC: AND ThEY ArE for DEfENcE

TC: i Am NoT sAfE

TC: i NEED mY fAucETs

TC: You Do NoT ApprEciATE ThEir powEr

CG: 3- i appreciate any other uses ;)!

TC: You will NoT

TC: You will NoT soDomizE YoursElf wiTh A fAucET

CG: 3- awwwwwwwww!

CG: 3- i can think of other things...!

\- tolstoyChelyabinsk [TC] ceased pestering champagneGarcon [CG]-

Why, who is this strange, interesting troll?

You do not know. Many things elude you. You do not know how much of the world works, only that it is strange and mysterious and very, very interesting. Who wants life to be boring? Uninteresting people, thats who. People who take lemons and make lemonade instead of of sweet, stupor- inducing troll vodka and making everyone wonder how the hell you did it.

It is very strange.

So what is your name?

Your name is Ivanbr Aginsk. You get pretty excited by flora of a lowblood hue which easily die facing towards the harsh Hetalian sun. You belong to a very exclusive group, which prevents the development of technology beyond what is available to prevent the excellence of the higher castes. Despite this, you feel no need to help anyone and instead spend ludicrous amounts of money on weapons, troll vodka, and classic airships.

You like to fly your airships, though you have yet to purchase one that can actually leave the ground. You enjoy copious amounts of troll vodka and indulge in a little redfruit soup sometimes. You have many faucets scattered around, for protection against you many enemies of both the black and red persuasions.

You like to chat a lot with your pal Franci, who is usually pretty hormonal, but he is your best friend. You have a lot of other great friends, and some other great friends who like you less than they really should. Your trolltag is trotskyChelyabinsk and you speak in a manner which EmphAsisEs ThE posiTivEs ANd NEgATivEs iN Your spEEch.

What will you do?

You take a bottle of troll vodka. To consume the beverage is what your fellow trollcoholics refer to as 'getting totally shitfaced.'

It is captchalogued through your one modus. Everything is categorised as one and the same thing in this modus.

As it should be.

You take your Unitop.

Sometimes you just like to pick stuff up and watch everything be shared equally. It's so beautiful. Life is beautiful.

You decide to attempt to make one of your classic planes leave the ground. Maybe one day you will find an honest dealer who you won't have to execute once the plane malfunctions. But for now, you try to fly this one.

You just need to figure out which button to press.

You cause a troll Michael fucking Bay explosion and blast from the carnage back into your hive.

You spot a bowl of redfruit soup cooling on the counter from your spot on the floor.

It is still piping hot but you can't help yourself. You sneak a taste of the redfruit soup. You aren't supposed to eat that soup, it does funny things to a troll's head. But you were never taught that on account of a lousy upbringing. Your custodian was always out to sea.

That is where he is now. Maybe you will go outside and see if you can spot him. You grab a faucet pipe. You'll need it if you are going to go out. It is dangerous to leave unarmed. You leave your hive and head out to the beach. There is no sign of your custodian. You should not stay out here very long. The SEA DWELLERS are quite hostile.

Someone is contacting you. This is exciting. You're always down for proposing to become one with anyone that who'll put up with you. Except for GA. Fuck that guy.

Now if only you could figure out how to get your Unitop out of this stupid thing. It'll certainly be strange if you can manage.

You contemplate the perfection of everything as one, and cautiously access your modus. Your sylladex launches your troll vodka far, far into the ocean.

Since there is nothing actually left in your modus, you grab your Unitop right out of it. Very strange.

\- greaterCotswold [GC] began trolling tolstoyChelyabinsk [TC]-

GC: Hey wanker, dou youu want tou play a game?

TC: iT woulD woulD bE sTrANgE of mE To sAY No.

TC: i likE gAmEs.

GC: Dammit!

GC: I was houping youu'd say nou.

GC: I thouught I'd ask because youu'd say nou and then I couuld get rid ouf bouth youu and youur stalker in oune fell swououp.

TC: i cAN sEE ThE logic iN ThAT plAN

TC: buT iT hAs fAilED, AND Now You ArE sTuck wiTh mE.

GC: Buggeratioun, Aginsk, douesn't anything bouther youu?

GC: Actually, nou, why am I even asking?

TC: bEcAusE AskiNg rhEToricAl quEsTioNs is A profouND pArT of Your spEEch pATTErN.

TC: iT is A sTrANgE, YET bEAuTiful ThiNg.

GC: Uhh, nou wounder Bounnef wants tou shag youu.

GC: Anyways, are youu actually game four gaming?

GC: OUr whatever.

TC: This is TA's gAmE?

GC: Yes.

TC: hmmmmm

GC: What?

TC: i AssumED I woulD lEArN AbouT This from FrANci

GC: Well nou, youu doun't.

GC: Youu're stuck with me, knoubhead.

GC: Maybe we can respectively ruin each outhers experience.

TC: AcTuAllY, No

TC: You will NoT ruiN miNE

TC: if i ruiN Yours iT will bE AcciDENTAl

TC: so You musT lEAvE mE AloNE

GC: Fuck youu. I dou what I want.

TC: ANYwAYs, i cANNoT plAY Now.

GC: And why the fuck nout?

TC: i'm wAiTiNg for mY cusTDiAN

GC: ahhhh

GC: Sourry.

GC: I fourget he's nout arouund a lout, ould chum.

TC: how is Your lusus?

GC: Still unbourn, as he has been four the last six sweeps.

GC: Such cautioun youu take!

TC: i ApologisE.

GC: Houw doues youur vile tumouur-brew taste with youur festering walking-platfourm sou far in youur fououd houle?

TC: likE clEAN AND ANTisEpTic

GC: ...

TC: iT woulD bE wisE for You To sTArT ThE gAmE

TC: i will go iNsiDE

TC: buT i will bE goNE A whilE

TC: You shoulD sTArT ThE gAmE wiTh FrANci

GC: uhhh, nou. That fucker's a last resourt.

GC: He'll fuck everything up.

GC: Blououdy usurper.

TC: fiNE.

TC: i will slEEp.

TC: iT is vErY likElY i will NoT plAY ThE gAmE wiTh You.

GC: Thank soudding Jegus!

GC: I'll see youu in the game.

GC: OUr houpefully nout.

GC: Have fun being passed ouut oun the flouour.

GC: Aginsk?

GC: Ivanbr?

GC: Hellou?

TC: whAT?

TC: i Am sorrY, i wAs wAlkiNg iNsiDE.

TC: mAYbE You woulD likE iT iN hErE, iT is vErY comforTAblE.

TC: mAYbE You will bEcomE oNE somEDAY.

GC: Ummm, I'll pass.

TC: You hAvE NEvEr sEEN iT, pErhAps You woulD likE likE mY rEspiTE block.

TC: oh.

GC: Enjouying the taste ouf walking-platfourm touday, are we?

TC: NoT pArTiculArlY.

GC: *huff*

\- greaterCotswold [GC] gave up trolling tolstoyChelyabinsk [TC]-

Finally some peace and quiet. Now you can bear down on your artwork. This will surely last all evening, without interruption.

You reopen one of your ~ATH projects you started recently. You are still horsing around with the conditions for redrawing the loops.

What many ~ATH artists do is sketch finite constructs and bind the loops to their expanse. For instance the main loop here will terminate on the end of the circle. That way you only have to wait billions of years for it to end instead of forever.

Your otaku buddy is obnoxiously good at it. She's sent you some pieces which you still don't understand, but you're not going to admit that. She is even better at making erotic art than you, which really gets stuck in your nook.

This series of artworks, when played consecutivleyy, immediately causes the user's computer to explode, and places a curse on the user forever, along with everyone he knows, and everyone he'll ever meet.

Not surprisingly, later on you would run this code in a fit of stupidity.

You don't know how she does stuff like this. What does this even mean? It's nonsense. Is it even pixely viable? Are those positions even legal? ARGH. Maybe you should ask her about it some time.

Oh speak of the devil. Here she is bugging you about something. Time to put on your game face and pretend you don't think very highly of her abilities.

\- torteAxis [TA] began trolling champagneGarcon [CG] -

TA: Franky, don't freak out but the game is going to start soon.-O

CG: 3- Why would i freak out?!

TA: because any opportunity you have to meet new people almost makes you bone bulge explode from misuse.-O

CG: 3- oh!

CG: 3- well here is my bone bulge, and it remains neither exploded nor misused!

TA: ewwwww get your fucking bone bulge out of my face-O

CG: 3- ohno, i'm swinging this at you now!

CG: 3- you just cant stop staring, you want this everywhere around you!

TA: *ta swings her mighty skillet and blasts cgs bulge off into the green moon, which promptly explodes, leaving no hope of it ever returning*-O

CG: 3- * cg says ow*!

TA: anyway, this game-O

CG: 3- oh, yes, i promised i'd relay this to Ivanbr!

TA: uhhh-O

CG: 3- he's not that bad!

TA: whatever-O

TA: so anyway the fate of our civilization depends on us playing this game -O

CG: 3- ok!

TA: i should be surprised that your not surprised but to be honest i'm just used to it by now-O

TA: but seriously, we need to play this, like NOW-O

TA: Or else a group of whole fucking meteors are gonna come fuck us all up-O

CG: 3- wait, you made a game that would kill us all?!

TA: no i adapted it-O

TA: from some shit AA found in the weird temple-O

TA: hasn't she told you?-O

CG: 3- non, i have not heard from her in a while!

CG: 3- Not after the accident at least!

CG: 3- she never really talked to me anyway!

CG: 3- not after that incident!

TA: which one?-O

CG: 3- ANY of them!

TA: eh, we hold grudges a while i guess-O

TA: especially us lowbloods-O

TA: stupid ghosts probably keep reminding her-O

CG: 3- non non non non non!

CG: 3- not here to talk about fake things!

CG: 3- Want to talk about ghosts and flying lusii, go talk to GC !

CG: 3- not me!

TA: fuckpod-O

TA: you know its real-O

TA: AG fucking proved it-O

CG: 3- We're getting off topic, mon ami!

TA: Fine.-O

TA: anyway, i'll send you a download soon-O

TA: just finishing some shit up-O

TA: there's gonna be two teams-O

CG: 3- green and red?!

TA: ...-O

TA: Fuck you-O

TA: i'm leading the red team-O

CG: 3- and i'm leading the green?!

TA: uhh no-O

TA: i asked GC to do it-O

CG: 3- whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!

TA: he is kind of a better leader!-O

CG: 3- HES BLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND!

TA: what has that go to do with leadership skills?-O

TA: uhh-O

TA: i don't care, ask him if you want to be leader-O

TA: good luck-O

CG: 3- i will!

CG: 3- GC finds me irresistible!

TA: he fucking hates you and you know it-O

CG: 3- I AM IRRESISTIBLE!

TA: your a fucking moron-O

\- torteAxis [TA] gave up trolling champagneGarcon [CG] -

Sounds like someone downstairs is getting pretty crabby. This is not an encounter you are looking forward to. You'll probably put it off as long as you can manage.

* * *

**Please follow, favourite, and review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Act 5 Act 1 Part 2**

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Why, who's this young man?

Your name is Arthur Kirkla.

You are pretty enthusiastic about magic and wild lusii. But you have a particular affection for their colourful hides, which you gather and use to decorate your hive. Though you live alone, deep in the woods, you surround yourself with a variety of plushie pals known as hidemates. You often spend your days with them in rounds of live action roleplaying. You used to engage in various forms of more extreme roleplaying with some of your other friends before you had an accident.

You take an interest in cooking, holding particular fascination for baked goods and their seemingly destructive tendencies. You have taken up the study of sneaky Hetalian poisons, and surround yourself with cookbooks. You have no need for copies printed in trollbraille, because you have cast several spells allowing you to see through your other senses. You hope one day to join the honorable ranks of the Cookeradicators. Your trolltag is greaterCotswold and you tend tou use courrect Hetalian grammar and spelling, as ouppoused to the bastardisation of youur ounce beautiful language with the near eradicatioun ouf the final vouwel.

You are presently the leader of the green team, poised to begin a mysterious game with five other friends, in direct competition with another six of your friends, comprising the red team.

What will you do?

It's pretty hard to live action role play when there is no one who is alive nearby. But all of your hidemates are alive to you.

Or at least you pretend to believe that to annoy people.

You prepare a new campaign for one of your favorite scenarios, Black Magic Summoning. His Illuminating Eye presides. To be summoned is an especially detestable fellow, old demon Sandy Claws. You have summoned this scumbag before. Tonight he will do your bidding.

You will play the role of the great summoner.

You begin the ritual with the meticulous preparation of your ingredients.

You don't want to get it wrong. Enough to summon, but not to rip a hole in reality itself. It must be methodical, business-like. And persistent. You only stop when you smell burning.

You recite the perfect incantation as practitioners of summoning arts have spoken for hundreds of sweeps:

"SANTA RITA MEETA MAYDA...RINGO JONAH TITO MARLON… JACK LATOYA JANET MICHAEL DUMBLEDORA THE EXPLORER. I HAVE SUMMONED YOU FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE CHOCOLATIER'S GRASP… SHOW YOURSELF!"

A large purple cloud emits from your waste-paper basket. (What, did you think you would be using a _bucket?_) Sandy Claws has escaped from you again.

Actually, you have never successfully summoned a demon, but as you are both blind and delusional, you would never know that. But as you observe it-

Another close attempt at summoning the great one.. The circle is adjourned. You offer final salutations to the Illuminating Eye in the customary manner.

Ok, that's not customary at all. You're just kind of weird. You you like licking things since you lost your sight.

It's just that your red chalk is the most delicious chalk. You cannot get enough of it. Anyone who says there is a more delicious chalk out there, or that you can't taste red, simply reeks of sense and logic and sanity.

You take your walking staff, which you use as a weapon kind of like Earth Gandalf who you've never heard of. You will use it to wallop enemies when you enter the Medium.

Your nose begins scouring your countroll through the saliva smears on your monitor for potential teammates so you can start playing. Hmm, no not her. Nope, not her either. Definitely not that guy.

Ok, how about this guy. You like to discuss with him sometimes via chat. You pretend you are a member of the mysterious and noble Bunnyrace, while he does his own goofy thing.

You don't have it in your heart to tell him that your chat RPing is meant humouurouusly.

\- greaterCotswold [GC] began trolling aargauCross [AC]-

GC: *GC flies touward youu cave with flapping wings and excited ears!*

AC: ¬-what the hell are you doing

GC: *GC wishes tou give a message tou AC!*

AC: ¬-no seriously arthur i havent got time for this

GC: *GC is a very frustrated bunny!*

AC: ¬-uuuuh...

AC: ¬-im going to shoot you in the face if you dont get to the point right now

GC: Fine.

GC: Dou youu want tou pla a game with me?

AC: ¬-no

AC: ¬-i dont have time for games

AC: ¬-my lusus needs protecting

GC: Isn't it suppoused tou be the outher way arouund?

AC: ¬-i do not care for such trivialities as regular culture

GC: Alright.

GC: But I really want youu oun my team!

AC: ¬-teams?

GC: Yes, a green and a red.

AC: ¬-so TAs playing, is she

GC: Yes.

GC: She made me leader

GC: ouf the green

GC: sou I asked youu!

AC: ¬-GA

GC: NOU.

GC: NOUT IN ANY SOUDDING VERSIOUN OUF HELL

AC: ¬-heh

AC: ¬-is CT playing

GC: I doun't knouw.

GC: I can ask, but I think TA will have already asked him.

AC: ¬-then no

AC: ¬-if i am forced to play, im playing with CT

GC: I can ask!

GC: -

GC: Green team!

AC: ¬-are you certain

GC: Surely youu doun't douubt me!

AC: ¬-

AC: ¬-...

AC: ¬-red team

GC: OUH, COUME OUN!

AC: ¬-sorry

AC: ¬-goodbye

AC: ¬-i will see you when we begin to play

AC: ¬-good luck

\- aargauCross [AC] ceased trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -

Well that was entirely pointless. You then decide to troll TC which also proves fruitless. He's not playing with you any time soon.

You guess that leaves…

Oh no. Not Franci. You were only going to ask him as a last resort. You wonder what he wants? You will try to avoid mentioning the game. Hopefully he hasn't caught wind of it yet.

\- champagneGarcon [CG] began trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -

CG: 3- whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!

CG: 3- arthur arthur arthur arthur arthur arthur mon ami!

GC: What?

CG: 3- i just got made team leader!

CG: 3- ask her!

CG: 3- its me!

GC: Sure.

GC: Gou ahead.

GC: Be my guest.

CG: 3- oh, okay!

GC: Where youu expecting me touou care?

GC: Soume ouf us aren't that petty.

CG: 3- no, its just...!

GC: Just what?

CG: 3- i was expecting more from you!

CG: 3- franciliy im a little dissapointed );B!

GC: Fuck ouff nubs.

GC: And stop trying to make name puns a thing.

CG:3- ):B!

GC: Gou wank youurself tou death.

GC: Leader is just a title.

GC: I just want tou play the game.

CG: 3- second-in-command?!

GC: What?

CG: 3- do you want to be my secnd-in-command?!

GC: If this is youu trying tou flirt with me again I swear I will rip ouff youu humoungouusly infected bulge and use it tou clean my louad gaper ;(

CG: 3- ohhonhon!

GC: ...

GC: Fuck youu.

GC: Nout literally

GC: Methaphourically.

CG: 3- feel free anytime!

GC: uh

GC: I'll be secound in.

GC: Just run the client disc.

CG: 3- what?!

GC: ...

GC: Youu doun't even knouw what the client disc is?

GC: Boulloucks we're all gouing tou die.

GC: Gououdnight sweet theif, may a crouwd ouf pink-fleshed nubless aliens send thee tou thy rest.

GC: Duoudecim angelus mourtus.

CG: 3- the discs have weird words on them!

CG: 3- i can't tell which is which!

GC: The oune that say 'client'.

GC: Twat.

GC: Let me send a picture.

GC: OUh.

CG: 3- see?!

GC: Yes, I understand.

GC: Wait a secound.

GC: ügyfél -OU

GC: That oune.

CG: 3- and szerveren -O is the sever disc?!

GC: Yes.

CG 3- 3!

GC: 3

GC: Nouw fuck ouff.

\- champagneGarcon [CG] ceased trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -

A little later, after the Witch of Heart's heroic arrival in the Land of Nickel and Palaces, you quickly crafted a new weapon, Suoh Notice-Me-Senpai Please. Plus some other cool stuff.

\- champagneGarcon [CG] began trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -

CG: 3- mon ami, please inform me as to WHY my load gaped is outside?!

GC: I thouught it improuved the lououk ouf youur planet.

GC: It lououks like an ouverdoune trashy piece ouf shit.

CG: 3- you can't even see my land!

GC: I can smell it.

GC: And it smells like shit.

GC: And pickles.

GC: Four soume reasoun youur planet smells ouf pickles.

CG: 3- off topic!

CG: 3- WHY IS MY LOAD GAPER OUTSIDE MY HIVE!

GC: Youur touilet is ouutside because I wanted it tou be ouutside.

GC: Nout ounly is youur face twice as ugly as I ever imagined it tou be, it make far moure humouurouus expressiouns than I wouuld have expected.

CG: 3- not a toilet!

GC: Touilet.

CG: 3- uhh, your vocabulary makes me sick and im too hadsome too be sick!

GC: Nouthing wroung with my voucabulary.

GC: But soumetimes youu make me wounder what youurs shouuld be.

CG: 3- What.!

CG: 3- What the fuck are you saying.!

GC: Sou... pretty louw then...

CG: 3- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING!

GC: Youur blououd coulouur.

CG: 3- Oh My God who the fuck cares?!

GC: 1) Youu're capitalizing

GC: Youu never dou that unless youu're scared.

CG: 3- no i don't!

CG: 3- i never capitalize!

GC: 2) Youu swoure ouut ouf anger. Same reasoun.

GC: 3) Full caps. OUnly four when youu're angry.

CG: 3- FUCK YOU.!

GC: ;)

CG: 3- not the point here!

CG: 3- bring the load gaper inside!

CG: 3- that is an order!

CG: 3- from you leader!

GC: Fine.

GC: Youu talk tou AA then.

CG: 3- )8B!

GC: Uhh.

GC: Youu have tou dou it soumetime.

GC: OUr youu'll never learn abouut the countext ouf the game.

GC: GA'll get splatted by METEOURS.

CG: 3- what meteors!

CG: 3- No One Said anything About meteors.!

GC: And as great as that may be, we need all twelve ouf us.

GC: Gou.

CG: 3- Meany.!

CG: 3- just tell me yourself!

GC: nou.

CG: 3- why?!

GC: I enjouy watching youu in soucially awkway situatiouns.

GC: Have fun!

GC: (Gout tou gou and sourt soumething ouut ouutside the tree)

\- greaterCotswold [GC] gave up trolling champagneGarcon [CG]-

A little while ago, a rust- blooded troll with blank eyes and a ribbon headband floated almost aimlessly around an ancient temple decorated with frogs. She use the psychic abilities that the lowbloods are susceptible too to desecrate the temple by severing the head from the stone from on top of it.

You're not sure why you did that, really.

There'll probably turn out to be a reason. There's a reason for everything. Understanding this lets you be reckless.

Whoever you are.

A little later, somewhere else entirely, another young troll with hands decorated with rings and jewels finds a bottle of sweet, delicious troll vodka on an island.

Uhh, you can't stand this stuff. Just more unawesome land-dweller rubbish. Make you feel sick.

Whoever you are.

* * *

PART TWO DONE! Sorry it's so short.

Please follow, favourite and review. DbM out.


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